Even after his completion of the program, Senior Trem de Markus still found the dull green starkness of the camp grounds strange, especially as he was more used to the shining towers of Lepus Mal, capital of Ti Lepus. He studied the latest aspirants for the Student Volunteer Service Corps all dressed in light green, as he walked out to greet them. Behind him stood the somewhat grubby green offices of the corps, while over to the left of the group stood the austere grey barracks, classrooms and fitness center. Hidden behind these was the obstacle course and other training grounds. Standing in front of the cadre was someone whom Trem had not met before this day; the second senior, Rentap Dressiler, a tall man with straight, dark hair, a lean face and deep set eyes, as immaculate in the same one piece dark blue uniform as Markus.

This was early spring for the volunteers, and they would be involved in various activities so Trem and Rentap, both recent graduates of the program, had agreed to become guides for this cadre, all of whom were men. There were no such programs on Ti Lepus for women and no women had ever tried to join the program. After completing this six week course, which mainly consisted of physical training, the successful applicants would continue onto the second part of their program; actually doing the volunteer works that each of them had signed up for.

“Cadre 112-4 present, Senior.” Rentap reported in a loud voice, then as he moved to stand beside de Markus continued in a quieter tone, “If not particularly correct!” As expected, the group heard Rentap’s comment to Trem. Together, the two of them surveyed the eighteen young men wearing the same uniform but in light blue, standing in front of them. These stirred uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

The Student Volunteer Service Corps was not required as a finishing course under the Centers for Higher Learning; Rules of Graduation. Neither was it a compulsory course for any program, but the reports of conduct counted heavily towards the status of those who were accepted into the Corps. Do well and your status was improved, however it could also go the other way. That meant that there was fierce competition to join with limited spaces available. Most thought that it would be easy, no matter what they were told. They would learn different over the next six weeks.

 “Listen up!” Trem’s voice echoed across the grounds. He was as tall as Rentap and bulkier. A crown of dark hair covered his head and framed his chiselled features. “This is not a military camp. You will not salute anyone, but you will give respect. No orders will be given by either of us and there will not be any weapons training. However, you must do as we ask. You will be divided into two groups. Each group will grade the other group, as well as giving self-evaluations.” He motioned to Second Senior Rentap Dressiler. “We will also be grading you, both separately and together. These evaluations, as well as others made as we go, will all go to affecting your status when you leave.”

The two hid smiles as the shock registered. This had not been mentioned before. The eighteen standing before them knew that their futures now rested, in large part, on the opinions of the two seniors standing in front of them. They squirmed for a fraction in silence, unsure of what to say. Status is the most important aspect of life on Ti Lepus, it permeates the social fabric and can decide what you do and how you live. Those with high status have advantages over those with lesser status. The importance of status guides the actions of both sexes and their lives. So anything that has an impact on it has to be taken seriously.

Rentap now took over, “Stand up straight, hands to your sides. We will begin with your dress. If I was to grade you on your dress, well, as you stand before me, there is no doubt, you would fail and your status would be affected. You are all men of Ti Lepus and you will, from right now, begin to act like one. As of today, we will be looking for improvement in everything you do. Every task that you, whether as individuals, or small or large groups, or the whole cadre are set. You are a group, and you will be graded as one at times.”

Trem was impressed. Rentap did not raise his voice, but it still carried.

He continued, “Now we will return to the barracks. There we will show you what to do to keep the barracks, your uniform and all your personal effects, in order. There are other procedures such as certain activities you will be undertaking that we will also instruct you in. Once we have done so, it will be up to you to carry them out as necessary. More on that later.” Rentap stopped to allow the group to digest this, then continued.

“Help each other. That is important!” He leaned forward to put emphasis on the last part. “You may come to either of us at any time. Do not be concerned about doing so. There is also the Controller who runs the camp. If you wish to leave, you must speak to him.” The consequences to their status if they did so were unspoken but clear.

After a pause, Trem asked, “Are there any questions?”  Silence reigned.

“Good, let’s go to the Barracks.”

*********

Later that evening, the two seniors sat talking in the office that was part of their quarters. A pot of tea was on the table between them. Any alcoholic or narcotic use was forbidden on the camp grounds. If any were found or used, it was grounds for dismissal with the resultant loss of status.

Rentap, being the junior of the two, poured.

“I am actually looking forward to tomorrow and watching them get their first look at the obstacle course. None in this group has much training or experience in games or exercise.” The look on his face showed what Rentap thought would happen.

“We will walk them through the course first,” Trem replied as he accepted his cup. “I remember what my first experience was like. I just about died!” He chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “This is good tea^[1].”

“Thank you, it is a family blend.” Rentap also had his memories. “The first time I saw that course was from the start line. We had to run it and figure out what to do at each obstacle! At least we weren’t graded on the first run!”

The two both laughed, then sobered.

 “Tomorrow we start. Wake them at the sixth period and put them to work. The usual thing.” Trem looked at his assistant. “Have you got the classes ready?”

“I do. Let’s look over them as we drink.” The two got to work.

*********

Six weeks later; “Cadre 112-4 present and correct, Senior.” Rentap Dressiler reported to Senior Trem de Markus.

“Thank you, Senior Rentap Dressiler.” Rentap moved to stand beside Trem. Together they surveyed the group before them, now totaling fourteen. Four had left for various reasons, accepting the damage to their status. The remainder had been successful to a greater or lesser degree.

In typical Ti Lepus fashion, brutally honest, the cadre received their critique. Grades were given and the cadre was dismissed to head back to their homes, and onto the work for which they had been trained, each in their own specialty. The physical training that Trem and Rentap had given them was important for two reasons; first the sense of physical well-being and, second, the feeling of accomplishment that derives from the completion of a difficult problem. The obstacle course was only one difficulty that the group had to deal with. These accomplishments would help the successful volunteers for the rest of their lives.

The two guides, Trem and Rentap, watched the now evolved group depart then turned to finish their duties. Those who had stayed, had grown. There had not been any effusive partings or thanks from the cadre. That was not the Ti Lepus way. After making a final check of the barracks and the grounds, the two young men returned to the programs offices to finish their final report. This was the last group of the season, so the next day, the pair would return to their homes, their status secure.

The last bit of work done, the pair’s reports were saved in the appropriate memories of the Volunteers Corps computer archives. Never to be seen again, except if some potential employer or parent of a potential bride enquired as to the status of a volunteer.

Standing and stretching, Trem muttered, “Glad to get that finished.”

“Indeed,” Rentap replied, then added, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Let me, you have given enough of your excellent blend.” Trem got to work. A fraction later, Trems tea was steeping in its pot. After a suitable period, tea was poured.

“Hmmm, excellent tea. Whoever threw this together knew what he was doing!” Rentap sat back and sighed, while observing Trem under hooded eyes.

“Threw together?” Trem sat straight up in outrage. “Why this was carefully selected and blended. All the ingredients were thoroughly checked and properly prepared!” He stopped when he saw that Rentap was smiling.

“I withdraw my remarks.” Rentap gave a rare laugh. “The tea is excellent. The best that I have had in a long time.”

Trem eyed the man that he now regarded as a friend, and slowly relaxed. A smile trembled on his lips, expanding into a laugh. “I admit it, you played me very well! Few could have done better.” He took another sip. “If you want the blend, you can’t have it.” He gave Rentap a sly look.

Rentap nodded, “And neither should you part with it. I can’t give my blend to you as I don’t know it. My eldest brother has the formula and he is responsible for guarding it.” Trem nodded and Rentap continued with a wry look. “He is zealous in his duty!”

“As is my mother. She won’t even tell my father!” The two exchanged looks of astonishment of the head of the family being defied. In unison, they lifted their cups to their lips and drank.

“Does she have reason?” Rentap wondered.

“Guilty as charged.” Trem held his hands up in surrender. “My father is shrewd in business but has little time for things he considers of minor importance. Tea brewing has never been of importance to him, while storing up credits and Konna for the future is.” Trem shook his head. “But he is a good man otherwise.”

Keeping his silence at such a rare private revelation, Rentap just nodded. Deciding to change the subject, he asked what Trem’s future held. “What will you be doing on your return?”

“Oh, the family business has a slot for me. I will be employed in the division of the families’ interests that deals with the employees of the various companies.” While there were several companies, mainly in manufacture and property development, Trem did not list the companies his family owned. That would be considered boasting.

“Now that will be a full plate.” Rentap was surprised. “What did you do wrong to get such a job dropped on you?”

“I asked for it. I have always been interested in people and this seemed to me a good way of meeting people and learning about them.”

Impressed, Rentap agreed, “You certainly should!”

Trem took a last sip of his tea then put his cup of to the side. “What are your plans, Rentap?” he asked. Such directness was a facet of the Ti Lepus makeup that always disconcerted the few visitors to the planet. Rentap was not put out.

“I have accepted a position with a small company that imports items from off planet.” Rentap waited for the reaction. He was not disappointed.

Trem stared, momentarily unbalanced and looked anew at his friend. He considered what he should say. “I am surprised. I thought that you would go high in any industry of your choice.”

“The position is that of junior partner and I have an agreement that I will take over the company when the current owner retires, something he wishes will happen in a few years. Part of the agreement is that any new business I bring in, will go to my account and not to the company generally. It is a great learning opportunity for me to understand the business. In time I will be my own employer.”

“But you will be dealing with off-worlders?” Trem was clearly shocked. The inbred distaste for anyone not of their planet, showing.

Rentap nodded soberly. He finished his tea and, standing, took both cups to the sideboard. A cleaner, one of the underclass would take care of the dirty dishes in the morning.

“That is a difficulty I will have to deal with.” He suddenly smiled. “Especially if I wish to get the best prices!”

Trem looked unconvinced, but it was not his place to raise objections. “When do you leave?” he asked.

“Early, the seventh period. I catch the first flyer of the day to Lepus Mal,” Rentap replied, “And you?”

“The second flyer, at ten point five.” Trem did not mention that he was travelling first class. This too would be boasting and could cost him status. Rentap understood.

The flyers were fast trains, run on a frictionless, elevated track. Operating only between major cities, they were the preferred mode of transit for those who were able to obtain permission to travel. There were other, slower, trains which operated as branch lines. Flying was reserved for government and authorised business.

“They are nice trains, better that the slow one. I will be in my seat at Star Business before the middle period. The ground trains, well they will take all day!” Rentap exaggerated only slightly, on both counts.

“Indeed, the speed is welcome!” Privately, Trem wondered at his friend’s declaration that he would be working from his first day back. This was, he considered, worthy of a true man of Ti Lepus, even if he was going to be meeting with outsiders!

“It will be good to get back. I admit that I have missed the city and my family.” Rentap looked out the window onto the rapidly darkening parade ground. After a fraction, Trem joined him.

“We must stay in touch, my friend,” Trem spoke softly.

“Indeed, I would like that,” came the equally soft reply. The two did not shake hands, the people of Ti Lepus rarely did, and only between close friends which the two were not yet. With goodnights, they parted.

*********

As he said he would, Rentap had left early the next day. Equally Trem showed his travel pass to a member of the patrol, the uniformed police force, at the time he said he would. Looking at what the pass specified, the patrolman gave a nod and handed the document back in a more respectful manner than he normally would have. Entering the departure platform Trem mused that perhaps the patrolman had been a graduate of the Corps. The train was waiting and there was little noise. No music was played and there were no buskers or entertainers to amuse the travellers, such things were disapproved of on this planet.

Boarding the waiting flyer took just a fraction. Finding his compartment, a fraction longer. Entering, he found another man already sitting there, disconcerted, he acted in typical fashion.

“I think that you are in the wrong compartment.” The man did not move. Trem tried again. “I think that you should move before you are ejected.”

The man shifted to look at Trem. He smiled and with a wave of his hand, indicated that Trem should come into the compartment. “Please sit,” came in a quiet voice. “You will find that the authorities on the train have no problem with my occupying a seat.”

Curious in spite of himself, Trem slowly entered and sat. Somewhat resentful, he was hoping for an undisturbed trip to Lepus Mal. He ran his eyes over his unwanted companion.

The man, clearly an outworlder appeared to be of medium height and build with strangely unremarkable features. While not dressed in the conservative Ti Lepus style of heavy coats and broad hats, his dark coat and pants were not an affront to the discerning Ti Lepus eye.

A change in the feel of the flyer brought Trem’s eyes to the window. They were leaving with a barely perceptible motion. He settled back into his seat. The stranger had closed his eyes and was seemly mediating, lounging in his seat.

“You enjoyed your time in the Student Volunteer Service Corps, Trem de Markus?” the man suddenly asked after some time had passed.

Trem slowly raised his head from his comm where he was reading the papers his father had sent him to read. In shock he stared at the man sitting across the compartment from him.

“How do you know my name or where I have been?” he whispered, the shock so profound he could not say any more.

A languid hand was raised. “I see your name on the carrying case and the station where you joined the flyer has a camp where the Volunteer Corps has its initial training. You are somewhat older than the first cadets, and have the bearing of someone who has gone through extensive training. That would make you an instructor.” The man smiled. “It was not difficult to put these parts together.”

Impressed in spite of himself, Trem wondered about the man and what he did. “Are you a policeman of some kind?” The answer shocked him.

“No. I am just someone who wishes goodwill to your planet.”

Goodwill to the planet? Trem stared at the man who still had not opened his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” He whispered.

“Just what I said.” The man sat up, giving a keen glance at Trem. “You are familiar with your planets history of violence?”

Again Trem was surprised, such directness was unusual when dealing with an outsider. They usually would try to be polite, and thus be regarded with amusement or contempt.

“Of course I am, but that is old history,” Trem answered with the same directness. “I don’t see what you are getting at, if anything.”

An unreadable look crossed the man’s face. “Not so old,” he whispered. Looking back at Trem, he posed a question, “Have you considered the underclass? What they think and feel?”

Trem was getting used to these questions. With a shrug, he answered that he had not.

“You should.”

“And why is that?” Trem was really annoyed now and it showed in his tone.

“Because the labour class and the servant class are beginning to feel the same way that the underclass are. It is even spreading into the service class and higher.”

“Higher?” Trem was confused. “I don’t know what you mean.” His annoyance and confusion was evident. “And why is what are they thinking and feeling about so important anyway?”

There was a sound at the door, which slid smoothly open. The man turned to a contemplation of the countryside as the train’s attendant entered uttering “Pass and identification,” in a bored tone. A member of the patrol stood in the passageway as the check took place. Trem picked up his wallet, and handed both over. He glanced at his unwanted companion who remained quietly sitting, gazing at the rapidly passing townships, interspaced with pockets of open countryside. These were too placid to be natural or wild.

The check completed and the papers returned, the attendant looked at the man who turned and waved his hand at him. The attendant muttered, “Oh yes, I checked everything of yours.” He left, the door sliding shut after him.

Trem studied his unwelcome companion in surprise. This was not usual. “How do you rate that?”

“Rate what?” the man replied with a frown.

“Getting away with an identification check!”

“Oh that.” The man nodded. “He had already checked all my documents. Quite thoroughly too.”

Looking unconvinced, Trem finished stuffing his ticket and identification away. He looked up, about to enquire more when the man forestalled him.

“Anger.”

“What?”

“Anger is what they feel. Anger and a sense of depravation.” The man did not smile, rather he looked grim. “On top of the anger, they are angry about being deprived of the possibility of any hope of advancement.” He glanced at Trem. “They want to be like you but they also hate you.” He looked away, out the window.

“Why should they feel that way?” Trem protested. “With hard work, they could improve their status and advance?” The man laughed softly at such naiveté.

“Oh, that is easy for you to say, with your advantages, your status. You have nothing to worry about, and your future is secure.” He laughed again. Trem looked around, but they were in a private compartment so no one heard.

“I do admire your choice of work, however. Personnel recruiting and administration in a large firm such as your families. Yes, you will learn much there.” The words were spoken softly, almost to himself.

Trem’s anger, which had risen at the man’s words, abated somewhat.

“That is one reason I asked for that job, I want to know more. My friend Rentap was surprised as well, but understood when I told him why.” Trem paused, wondering why he was talking like this, especially to a complete stranger. He suddenly realised that he didn’t even know the man’s name. He also wondered how the man knew what he was going to be doing.

“Remember, when you deal with the underclass, you are dealing with the lowest level of your society. They are constantly reminded of their lack of status and their inability to improve it. Few, if any, get a chance to step up to the labour class.” With a smile, the man finished, “Even some of high class feel that this is wrong.” The smile vanished and a serious, even grim, look appeared. “And some are moving to take advantage of that anger.”

The look of surprise that passed over Trem’s face surpassed any emotion that he had shown previously. Trem had learned his history well. He knew what had been done in the past by those who sought power in anger.

“Why would anyone what to stir up trouble?” he whispered, then frowned. “How do you know all this?”

“I have many sources of information” was the man’s quiet reply. He looked out the window. “This train is efficient, we have almost arrived.” The man sounded pleased for some reason.

He stood, his move to the door was done in a smooth, gliding, motion. Stopping there, the man turned and spoke one last time. “Trem de Markus, I see that you are a good man. A true son of Ti Lepus. We will meet again in the future.” He turned and stepped through the door, which shut with a hiss.

A fraction later Trem stood and opened the door. The corridor was empty and the train was slowing, as it glided into the arrival platform. With a shake of his head, Trem gathered his luggage and left the flyer.  As he walked to where he could collect a transportation vehicle, he kept an unobtrusive watch for his unexpected guest, but saw nothing.

Programing the transporter he selected to take him to his private apartment, Trem gave it the command to go. Sitting back in the operators’ chair, he ran the conversation he had had with the stranger through his mind. There was no thought of discussing it with anyone else, not even his family. He would be ridiculed for taking it seriously which would cost him and his family status. Something to be avoided at all costs. No, this conversation he would keep to himself.

Arriving at his apartment, he handed his bag to his servant, a man of the service class, a long term retainer and under contract to the family. This servant did not live on the premises and, when finished his work for the day, returned his quarters in the main family complex, located in another building. For the first time, Trem found himself studying the servant. He opened his mouth and shut it, shaking his head as he did so. The manservant noticed.

“Is there something, Master Trem?”

Trem paused, thinking. “No,” he said slowly. “Just finish and you may leave.” He stood. “I am just tired. It’s been a long day and I will just relax.”

Surprised, the manservant gave a respectful bow. “I will see you when the family gathers at the sixteenth period Master Trem. They are looking forward to seeing you again.”

“And me, them.” Trem took his drink that he had poured for himself into his study. To the manservant’s continued surprise, he shut the door.

*********

The Dark Lord walked into the study He often used when He was in His palace on Tihab. The Ladies of the Circle who were present, some reading, glanced up.

“Where have you been all this time?” Dana asked, giving her blond hair a flip. Luca looked up, showing curiosity. Another Lady, with shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes and a slim build, also looked up from her book, eyebrows arched in interrogation.

An affected look of surprise crossed the Dark Lords face. “Why so curious?” He said with a slight smile.

“Come on, give.”  Prodded red haired Sydney, wearing her trademark short red dress.

Dropping into His favorite seat beside the empty fireplace, the Dark Lord picked up the book that He had left on the side table at the same time.

Slender, dark haired Andrea stepped closer to the chair, adding her voice to the chorus at the same time, “Come on, you can’t leave us in the dark like that!” Others followed in a similar vein.

There was a sigh as the book was returned to the side table. “Very well.” There was an air of expectancy amongst the Ladies as the Dark Lord steepled his fingers.

“Well,” He repeated, “Like the red, red robin, I was bob, bob, bobbing along.”

It was with no effort that He snatched the thrown book out of the air.

*********

The Head Steward was almost at the study when she heard the roar of outrage. The Ladies who were standing outside the door spun around at the sound and quickly entered the study. The Head Steward promptly did a U-turn. “My news will keep,” she said to her equally puzzled assistant.

 

[1] Teas are a cultural and social speciality of Ti Lepus. For the High Status they are individually blended. Lower status people use pre-blended teas to their taste.